


slow dancing in a burning room

by Aseikh



Category: Ranger's Apprentice - John Flanagan
Genre: Angst, Canonical Character Death, F/M, Flashbacks, Grief/Mourning, Grieving Will Treaty, I only like TRR for the angst, Lost Love, Love, Memories, TRR-era, kind of a song fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-31
Updated: 2020-12-31
Packaged: 2021-03-11 03:22:20
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,460
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28464519
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Aseikh/pseuds/Aseikh
Summary: Will recalls some memories on the anniversary of his wife's death.
Relationships: Alyss Mainwaring/Will Treaty
Comments: 3
Kudos: 19





	slow dancing in a burning room

**Author's Note:**

> Where I'm at, it's still 2020, but Happy New Year! Here's to more writing, reading, and joy in the next year. Until I pass out into 2021, here's some more angst! Sorry I haven't been as active!

With all of his years of experience, one would think that he would have noticed the storm building in the background. They’d been in love for so long, circling each other with questions and comments instead of actions and statements. He should have realized sooner that something was going to take it all away, before too long. He should have recognized the signs and worked to protect them from it.

But he didn’t.

Horace said they should have jumped in, not have taken so long to work out their feelings, despite the fact that he and Cass had only gotten married a few months before them. In Will’s eyes, it hadn’t been about the rush of it all, but the slow and steady fall they each experienced each and every time they saw the other.

Early on, it was always one thing after another; Skandia, training, Arrida, Seacliff, missions, Nihon-Ja. It put things on hold, until they realized that if they didn’t do anything about it, nothing would ever happen.

And so, for once, they took Horace’s advice and jumped in.

They got married, her golden hair wreathed in a circlet of yellow flowers, the light from the lanterns and the shining stars above them acting almost as a spotlight for her. She commanded the area with her radiance, and Will couldn’t take his eyes off of her. He was hopelessly, utterly enchanted.

Her poise had caught Will’s eyes when they were younger, and she hadn’t let go in all of their years together. That night, during their wedding, slow dancing together with their friends, all the love in the air … Will still couldn’t look away, years later. It was like she was the only light he could see. And he was okay with that.

Her arms around his neck, his around her waist, slowly stepping to the light music in the clearing. Dimly, Will could hear others talking: Horace and Cassandra whispering to each other as they danced not too far away; Halt and Pauline murmuring something before Pauline’s laugh slipped out. It was all Will could ever hope for—love and family after feeling alone for so long.

Will didn’t pay them too much mind at the moment, though. His eyes were on her and the way she moved, stepping along with him. It was the same dance she had taught him at Halt’s wedding.

Everything was too easy, after the wedding.

Sure, they were separated sometimes. Will had missions to do and she had work to focus on. They once spoke about having children, but decided against it due to the nature of their jobs. Instead, in their freetime, they would make their way over to Baron Arald’s Ward and spent time with the kids there, volunteering to help teach the wards to help prepare them for their own choosing day.

It made sense—not having kids with their jobs. It was a logical decision.

But it would have made more sense to make the most of their time together, in whatever way that meant for them.

Because there could always be flaws in logic. They had made the decision based off incorrect facts, things that they had taken for granted.

They had assumed that they had all the time in the world, when in reality … they didn’t.

He didn’t realize, though, with how engrossed he was with her. It was like they were still in that clearing, slow dancing in the warm lantern light. It didn’t matter how many times he came close to death, because it never happened. He was good enough to avoid it, or get away with a few scratches and bruises.

He didn’t realize that their time wasn’t guaranteed. He was still slow dancing in that glowing clearing, staring into her brilliant eyes and not realizing that the light around them was the forest burning down around them, rather then the light of the lanterns from their wedding night.

Even as the others continued on—having Maddie, spending time together—they were still slow dancing, too distracted with the other to realize that they were being left behind in the gathering smoke.

Will didn’t realize … not until it was too late.

Not until the fire had crept up around them, catching on her white dress. Even she didn’t notice. Her warm arms were still around his neck, his around her waist, even as the cloud of embers flew up around them. She smiled warmly at him, her eyes the same color as the smoke. He was blind to the fire, until she took one step back to twirl, and the smoke swallowed her whole.

He hadn’t realized until it was too late.

The memory of her form in his arms taunted him as the smoke drifted away. She was dead. Dead and gone. And here he was, two years later, standing in the same clearing where it had all began, golden light from the setting sun getting dimmer and dimmer.

He could almost see her. White dress, yellow flowers in her golden hair. Glowing smile and gray, intelligent eyes. But, of course, she wasn’t there. They had slow danced their way through their lives, unaware that it was burning down around them. Unaware that they only had so much time together, and that there was nothing they could do to extend it.

He closed his eyes again, willing that vision back. He remembered how she looked before she left, wearing her travel clothes and one of his green sweaters. She had taken her wedding ring off for safety, but it was tucked under the sweater on a chain, much as his was currently around his neck, next to his oakleaf.

They had kissed goodbye, with plans to visit Horace and Cassandra and Maddie after she returned. It was going to be their niece’s birthday, and they hadn’t been by in a few years.

“Uncle Will?” a voice interrupted his thoughts, pulling him back to the present. He was still standing in that clearing, but there was no sign of the lanterns from that night, and the canopy had grown in more, so the stars weren’t as visible as they had been back then.

He turned, seeing the young woman his niece had grown into. She was like her mother—confident, but caring; steadfast, but willing to learn. Her father echoed in her movements, even as she awkwardly leaned up against a tree. He didn’t say anything, instead tucking his hand back into his pocket from where it had been playing with the ring.

“Dinner’s ready,” was all she said, voice soft in the night.

They both knew what day it was. They hadn’t spoken at all, but they both knew. Will had let Maddie run her own training and she let him quietly go off on his own with no words spoken. Now, she had found him as the sun dipped under the horizon, the sparkling, taunting light vanishing and leaving him alone, in the center of all his broken memories. In his mind, the clearing was burned and charred, just like his memories of those years were now.

“Thanks … Maddie,” Will murmured, staring into the darkness across the clearing. The light was gone, taking away all of the illusions he had conjured, but if he thought hard enough … he could almost see her.

And she was motioning for him to go. To turn around and leave with his niece.

When he finally did, Maddie was still waiting for him, her arms crossed in front of her chest and a searching look in her eyes. He hadn’t learned with Alyss, losing her as their world was consumed around them.

But maybe he could make the most of his time with Maddie, before it was his time to go.

He forced a smile, brushing his untrimmed hair out of his eyes as he looked over at his apprentice. “Let’s go, Mads,” he said, stepping forward and motioning for her to start walking.

She didn’t move, though, looking at him. “Is everything … are you okay, Will?” she asked, looking around the clearing. She knew what it was—he and Alyss had taken her there some years before, when they were watching Maddie for a short time.

Will looked behind him, looking at the dark clearing. No one was there. There were no lanterns left over from that night so many years ago, and she definitely wasn’t standing there, waiting to continue their dance with open arms.

He took a deep breath before sighing and looking back at Maddie. “Not really,” he said, wanting to be truthful with her. He ruffled Maddie’s hair, purposefully messing it up before stepping around her and in the direction of the small cabin they now shared.

“But that’s okay.”


End file.
